


mapping distant stars

by Hymn



Series: Hymn's Fic: Voltron: Legendary Defender Collection [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: M/M, a collection of tumblr fic from 2018, fluff mostly, short oneshots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-19
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2019-12-30 16:11:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18318749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hymn/pseuds/Hymn
Summary: A collection of short fics that I posted to tumblr in 2018, including reaction prompts, shance day prompts, and other random things.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ~~apologies for the formatting, it's a miracle i'm getting this posted at all tbh and if we waited for me to code this for html it would NEVER HAPPEN so here we are lol~~ I COULDN'T TAKE IT, I FIXED THE FORMATTING \o/
> 
> this chapter was written in response to supershance finding a spider 8D;;

“Okay,” Lance said, arms crossed and foot tapping. “I give. What is going on here, big guy? You’ve been standing in front of your room for _five minutes_ did you, like, go offline, or something? A sudden bout of intense meditation? _What_.”

Shiro’s shoulders hunched up a little, chin tucking down. His own arms were crossed tightly across his chest as well, and he refused to look at Lance. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Nope,” Lance replied. “Too late, Lancey Lance is officially _concerned_ , and also deeply invested in unearthing the truth.”

“Can’t a guy just stare at his door a little?” Shiro huffed, rolling his shoulders. His fingers tightened against his elbows, and okay, now Lance really _was_ concerned. “Maybe I’m just appreciating the artistry. The, uh, smoothness of this - what the hell is this even made of?”

“Ask Hunk,” Lance suggested, coming closer. He stopped, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Black Paladin, and then deliberately knocked into Shiro hard enough that he staggered, whipping his head around to glare down at Lance.

Lance grinned. “Teeellll meeeeeee~”

Groaning, Shiro hung his head in defeat. “…There’s a spider in my bathroom.”

“…a spider,” said Lance. “In your… _bathroom_.”

Shiro hung his head a little lower. “Yes.”

“Please, Shiro, correct me if I’m wrong here.” Lance bit his lip, and couldn’t help the way his eyes went wide with glee. “But what you’re saying, O Fearless Leader, is that a spider in your bathroom chased you out of not only the _bathroom_ , but your _room_ , and into the hallway. Where you have been standing for five minutes staring at your door. Helpless.”

Very slowly, a pink flush began to work its way across Shiro’s face. Lance could just see it at the tops of his fine cheekbones, the rounded tops of his ears. “…You’re enjoying this way too much.”

“Oh, buddy,” Lance breathed, impossibly smitten. “You have _no_ idea. So. Too big to live, huh?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Shiro mourned, snapping his head up, finally, and glaring at the door. Still _pink_ , oh sweet quiznak, Lance was not going to survive this turn of events.

Lance hummed, tilting forward and angling his head to catch Shiro’s gaze. He grinned. “Want me to kill it for you?”

“Would you _please_ , oh my god,” Shiro looked at him like a wounded puppy, all shining eyes and hopeful expression, and –

“Sure thing,” Lance wheezed, a little dazed at the sight. “One daring rescue, coming right up! Excuse me, please, while I go and slay the fearsome beast.“

“My hero,” Shiro deadpanned, grinning a little. “However shall I repay you?”

“Mm.” Hustling Shiro out of the way, Lance palmed the door open, stepping forward quickly so that Shiro couldn’t see how _his_ complexion was also getting a tad warm, smile too dopey and pleased. But he could work with this. He was _Lance_. He knew just what to say, here, even with his heart pounding full stop.

Lance called back over his shoulder, flirt-o-meter cranked to full blast, “With a kiss, of course!”

“… _Lance_ ,” Shiro managed, strangled, which wasn’t a _no_ , now was it.

Whistling happily, Lance headed for the bathroom. He had a spider to kill and a kiss to claim, and sweet quiznak, was that a _big fucking space spider, holy shit._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> reaction fic from the promos of....season 7? 6? i can't remember anymore lol - monsters & mana, back when i thought shiro was a knight lololololol

The fifth time Lance detonated a smoke bomb just to move to the other side of the trail, Shiro caught his tail in one gauntleted hand. “ _Yeow!_ ” he shouted, loud enough for birds to trill warning cries and leap from branches, abandoning the canopy in a rush of wing and wind and leaves fluttering down atop their heads.

“Can you – not?” Shiro asked, and he could feel the grimace on his face. “Even if you don’t call attention to us, it’s…” he cleared his throat, but damn it, Shiro was supposed to be having a _mental break_ , and while it hadn’t bothered him at first, with each new explosive noise he could feel tension beginning to creep into the back of his neck.

“I dunno,” said Lance, eyes wide and affronted. He was half turned to face Shiro, but with his tail still caught he couldn’t complete the movement. His ears twitched, just slightly. “Could you, maybe, _let go of my tail_. Aren’t you supposed to  be a Knight?! This is not chivalrous behavior!”

“You’re hardly a maiden, Mister Ninja Assassin _Thief_ ,” said Shiro, voice dry.

“Oi. It’s just Ninja Assassin, I told you! The thievery is a _bonus_. And excuse you, who said that chivalry should only be for maidens? Why don’t I deserve –”

A tug on Lance’s tail stopped him mid-word in a hurry. To Shiro’s never-ending fascination, it was prehensile, the tip of it curling around Shiro’s wrist, fidgeting slightly against the buckles of his bracers. Shiro watched it, curious, vaguely aware that the rest of the group had gone up ahead to a small clearing.

“Don’t try and pretend, Lance,“ Shiro hoped it came off teasing, since inside his chest it – it didn’t feel very _kind_ , or good-natured, “You only agreed to this because you saw a chance with Allura, right? Who’s a real princess, I might add, and probably the only one of us who _should_ expect a Knight to be chivalrous – and who’d probably punch me if I thought to do so.”

“…True,” Lance allowed, sounding tense. “But I don’t –”

Shiro smiled, faintly. Turned his wrist and pulled gently at Lance’s tail to hear him stutter off into unintelligible noises and stagger, gracelessly, across the ground toward him until Shiro could lean down, tuck his nose against the shaggy mess of Lance’s hair, near one twitching, animalistic ear. “Tell me, if you think I should be chivalrous, then should I protect your heart, instead? Or your virtue? I thought you _wanted_ to give that away.”

“ _Careful_ ,” Lance choked out, body arching in a telling way, and – Shiro really shouldn’t be pushing, what the hell was he _thinking_ ; he took a deep breath, and forced his fingers to unclench from around Lance’s tail, letting go.

The tail coiled tight around Shiro’s arm, and – the _fuck_ how was it so strong? – somehow, suddenly, with that impossibly quick movement true to his class, Lance was pressed up against Shiro’s front, from chest to thigh, grinning wicked and close. “I might just steal your heart instead, you know. How about _that_ , Shiro?”

“Hnh,” was all Shiro managed, staring down into laughing, dark blue eyes, and Lance’s grin twisted into a smirk, and Shiro could feel himself on the precipice of falling; felt the way his spine wanted to bow down, to bridge the space between his lips and Lance’s, to kiss him stupid and sweet, and –

A _bang_ , a plume of smoke.

“Oooh, what’s this! Guys, guys! Looks like Mister Chivalrous Knight over here was keeping a secret! Check out what Shiro had in his pocket!”

Lance was already at the clearing and Shiro was left reeling, teetering, heart racing.

Shit, _shit_ , this was – Coran cleared his voice, sounding just a smidge awkward before the Loremaster began his voice-over, elaborating on the item hidden within Shiro’s pocket. Shiro was not surprised, because sweet quiznak but this was entirely the wrong time to be flirting this obviously, what the hell, nothing in this game could actually be _secret_ , no matter the illusion of privacy they’d had.

Rubbing at his face, Shiro hurried to catch up with the rest. He would – _he would!_ – be on his best behavior, mental break or not. He wouldn’t allow the butterflies in his stomach get control of him, nope, not even if it had seemed like Lance had maybe – _definitely_ – been flirting back. Flirting with _him_.

_Aaaahhh, Shirogane! Get a hold of yourself!_

Absolutely no more needling attractive, ridiculous, far-too-physical-for-Shiro’s-own-good Ninja Assassin _Thief_. Steal his heart, ha! Like Lance hadn’t already managed to do _just that_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shance day prompt, international trips

“I feel _vile_ ,” Lance mourned under his breath, but with _conviction_. “How long is this flight? We’ve been here for ages and my skin is _oily_ , and my hair is _limp_ , Shiro, and I need a _bath_ , I must look terrible, I –”

Next to him, Shiro made a quiet noise of amusement, let his magazine fall limply into his lap and slumped heavily into Lance’s shoulder, forehead pressed to Lance’s neck. Lance went instantly still, angling himself to make the position more comfortable. Blowing at Shiro’s hair did little to keep the white curls from trying to get into his mouth, so he lifted his chin to tuck it over the top of Shiro’s head, instead.

“Shirooooo,” he whined.

“Laaaaance,” Shiro mimicked, humor making the elongated vowel quiver. “You’re beautiful, love, even when you _do_ look a little extra shiny.”

Lance gasped. “How _dare_.”

“I am napping now,” Shiro hummed, happily. “On this beautiful pillow. I sure hope this pillow stops saying stupid things, because it’s the most gorgeous pillow I have ever snuggled. And I love it. A lot.”

“Pfft,” Lance said, pointedly. Damn it, and he’d really been gearing up for a good diatribe, too. “That’s dirty fighting, Shirogane.”

Shiro’s lips brushed against Lance’s skin, a kiss or a smile. Both, maybe. Lance gave in, helpless against the swell of warmth through his chest, the steady, heady happiness. With a quiet sigh, Lance nuzzled into Shiro so that his cheek rested atop Shiro’s head, unable to help the small smile that curled his lips.

“I love you, too.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shance day prompt, "get off me you big lug we gotta go get breakfast"

The truth was that Shiro had been awake for an hour by the time Lance’s alarm went off. Groaning, Lance wriggled beneath him, trying to slap at his phone to shut it up. Shiro, for his part, stayed splayed out across him, nose buried in the soft cotton of Lance’s sleep shirt.

Outside the room the noise of a house waking up had been steadily increasing. Shiro had listened to Lance’s grandmother turn on the radio; his mom or a sibling moving about in the kitchen, starting breakfast, maybe, or some of that delicious coffee they liked so much; he’d heard Allura’s laughter, and Pidge’s bright voice, indistinct but happy.

Tucked away in Lance’s childhood room, Shiro never wanted to leave. He felt.. so relaxed. So at _peace_ , with the gentle beat of Lance’s heart against his chest, their limbs casually tangled. The _truth_ was that Shiro wanted to stay here, cocooned in the warmth of comfort and safety, forever.

“T’kashi,” Lance murmured, adorably sleep-slurred. His hand came up to stroke clumsily against Shiro’s hair, trying to tame the bed head. “Babe, time t’ get up. Mm, somethin’ smells good.”

Shiro remained a dead weight atop him, eyes closed, and fighting off a smile.

After a moment, Lance poked him in the side and Shiro said, “ _Nooo_.” Lance huffed a laugh, stretching out beneath him.

“Knew it, no way y’were still sleeping. C’mooon, you big lug.” A kiss was pressed messily against his ear, then his temple. “We gotta get br’kfast ‘fore it’s all gone. My siblings are _savage_ , T’kashi, there will be nothin’ lefffft.”

“Don’t care,” Shiro decided, tucking his face more firmly into Lance, feeling the warmth of a blush heat his ears. Quiet, he added, “Just… hold me a little longer? Please?”

A pause, and then Lance went boneless beneath him, arms coming up, shuffling Shiro even more firmly into the embrace. “Suure,” Lance said, with a sweet little sigh.“But if I fall asleep again ‘an miss breakfast, you _owe_ me.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shance day prompt, "is that my shirt?"

Shiro was in the little kitchen of their borrowed transport ship, leaning groggily against a counter and sipping at something that _almost_ resembled Earth coffee, when Lance stumbled in. Even temporarily homeless, Lance looked fresh, put together – skin looking so soft Shiro wanted to _touch_ –

Uncomfortable, Shiro averted his gaze, cleared his throat, and shifted awkwardly against the counter. “Morning,” he greeted, softly. Lance only grunted in reply, and Shiro glanced back at him, relaxing when he realized Lance was still too sleep-addled to notice his staring.

Oh. Lance hadn’t combed his hair yet. God, his bed head was _adorable_.

And –

“Wait,” said Shiro, without thinking. “Is that – Is that my _shirt?”_

Lance went still, still stretched out on his tip toes to reach the cabinet that held the cups. He was one long stretch of warm brown skin and muscle, his loose pants slung low on his hips, the too-big shirt he wore revealing too much shoulder and clavicle for Shiro to quite handle gracefully, but most importantly –

 _Lance was wearing Shiro’s shirt_.

“Huh,” said Lance, slowly. “ _Huh_. Would you – Would you _look at that_. So it would seem! How funny. Ha ha. It isss your shirt, I wonder –”

Shiro made an incomprehensible noise, _staring_. It took him a long second to realize that he was about to spill his psuedo-coffee all down his hand and _he did not care_. Lance was wearing his shirt.

Lance looked _really good_ in Shiro’s clothes, okay. This was not a thing Shiro had known he needed, but he _did._

“ _Lance_ ,” Shiro protested, voice deeper than he expected. He cleared his throat hurriedly, and tried again, “It – uhhh –”

“Must have gotten mixed in with my things when we moved out of the Castleship,” Lance said, brightly, finally dropping his arms and turning to Shiro. There was a touch of red to his face, but his grin was easy – big and teasing, _flirtatious_ , and oh no, _no_ , Shiro could not deal with this. He clutched at his coffee with his one hand desperately.

Lance’s fingers danced at the hem, and he said, a slow, careless drawl, “Want it back?” and started to _lift it_ –

Shiro dropped his coffee on the floor, speechless.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> shance day prompt, "puddle jumping"

“Just look at it,” Lance said, voice desperate with longing. “Shiroooo, look at that puddle. It is huge, it is a lake of a puddle, it calllls to me, I can hear! Can you hear it?? I’m just gonna – I gotta –”  
  
“Lance,” Shiro warned, eyes growing wider with each plaintive exclamation. He clutched Lance’s hand more firmly in his, struggling to keep the umbrella over the both of them as the gentle rain still continued to fall. “Lance, no. We would get soaked, don’t you dare!”   
  
Impish, bright blue eyes whipped around to stare at Shiro. Despite the danger, Shiro’s heart quailed to see the expression of unholy, near childish glee on his boyfriend’s face. He could feel his iron will weakening, weakening, crumbling to dust.   
  
“Please,” he hissed. “Lance, c’mon, do you know how uncomfortable skinny jeans are when they’re wet!? Let’s just –”   
  
“I’m gonna do it,” Lance breathed, a breathtaking grin spreading across his face.   
  
Oh, hell.   
  
All at once, Lance loosened his grip on Shiro, turning toward the truly massive puddle and gathering himself to leap feet first into it. Shiro mourned, for but a moment, any semblance of dignity – then he tightened his fingers through Lance’s, and followed him, tumbling off the curb into calf-deep water.   
  
Lance’s splash drenched them up to their chests. God, that was cold.   
  
“You’re impossible,” Shiro growled, umbrella left forgotten on the curb. The rain slicked through his hair, sprinkled his face. Lance threw his head back, laughing.   
  
“You could’ve let go!”   
  
“Never,” Shiro vowed, grinning.   
  
Moving quickly, Shiro leaned in, wrapped his arms around Lance’s waist, and lifted. Lance cackled, kicking his legs, water streaming in glittering droplets around them. They were soaked, and ridiculous, and people across the street had stopped to stare, and Shiro did not care.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the self-prompt "at dusk" to try and get outta my writer's block lol

“Hey,” Shiro whispers, and brushes a cold knuckle against the side of Lance’s jaw. An achingly slow caress that is tender and fragile enough in this moment to make Lance want to shake and fall apart; tears prickle his lashes; he refuses to let them fall.

Instead, he croaks back, “Hey,” like this is ordinary.

It is not ordinary. Not at all.

“Can you open your eyes?”

Lance considers. “No,” he decides, mouth twisting. Half a pout, and half something more raw, more agonized.

In front of him, Shiro breathes. Lance can sense the movement, the gentle swell of his chest, the rise and fall of his shoulders; can feel the gentle puff of his strained breath against the bridge of Lance’s nose as Shiro ducks closer, that knuckle slipping off the edge of his jaw. Shiro’s hand falls, lands open-palmed against the side of Lance’s neck; his forehead tips and presses against Lance’s.

“Please?”

Lance refuses.

Shiro huffs a breath and rocks his forehead into Lance’s, a brief, worried press. “The sun is setting, you know,” he coaxes, something unbearably gentle in his voice. Lance feels it like a wound in his chest; a gaping, angry hole that wants to devour him.

Shiro says, “It’s nearly as beautiful as you are.”

“Oh,” Lance breathes, instinctive with toe-curling emotion. “Fuck _you_ , dude. Do not use my own moves against me.”

The faintness of Shiro’s chuckle makes it apparent how difficult this is for him. Lance breathes in sharply, holds it. Feels Shiro automatically hold his breath in time, and –

“I can’t do this,” he whispers. “I can’t keep – I’m not just going to – _shit_. You –”

“Me,” agrees Shiro, sheepish.

“You _ass_ ,” Lance groans, and his lashes flutter open, sticky with nearly shed tears and Shiro is so close that all he is is a blur at first before he sharpens abruptly into soft gray eyes and furrowed brows; a devastated, worried downward turn at the corners of his mouth.

“Hey, now,” Shiro chides, but softly. “It’s not like you’re much better at keeping to the side lines. How many times have you died, now? How many reckless stunts have you pulled? You’re the riskiest pilot I’ve ever –”

Lance kisses him.

“– that doesn’t make it any less true,” Shiro murmurs, rueful, lips sliding against his when Lance pulls back slightly. Lance can feel the wry smile forming against his own mouth, and he bites at Shiro’s before it can finish forming, because he is _angry_ , he is furious, he is _so fucking glad_ that Shiro is okay.

“Shut _up_ ,” Lance orders, and if his voice comes out hoarse and thick, he hopes Shiro will be kind enough to call the sound of it a growl, rather than recognize the truth in how it is breaking.


End file.
